


A Scandalous Request

by ineverwantedthethrone



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bad Writing, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Massage, Modeling, Murder Husbands, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Painting, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Suggestive Themes, Touching, Will Graham Knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28712730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineverwantedthethrone/pseuds/ineverwantedthethrone
Summary: Hannibal paints, Wil models for him.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	A Scandalous Request

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is gonna be bad because I'm zooted, but also because i haven't written anything in months but remembered I had an account here and thought I should let everyone know Im alive!!
> 
> Thiswasalsoreallyrushed
> 
> I'll probably delete it when I have something better to post!

"I'm a little surprised Dr. Lector that you would invite me here with such a scandalous request." 

Will teased, removing his coat and placing it on the holder. He took off his and shoes as well, lining them up before wandering into Hannibal's space which was now decorated with oil paints and a large canvas held in place by an even larger easel.

The psychiatrist finished fumbling and arranging his supplies, stepping over to properly greet his beloved guest. Arms open and welcoming, the smallest of smiles on his lips.

"There is nothing scandalous about asking a friend to model for you, Will. Consider it a bonding experience."

Will actually chuckled at that, the older man leading him to a cloth-covered cylinder, urging him to sit down, which he did. Then, Hannibal stood back in front of him, clearly looking him up and down, eyes occasionally stopping to linger. When the profiler couldn't handle it anymore, he cleared his throat, breaking the silence. 

"So, Dr. Lector, how would you like me to 'model.' You haven't given me any pose instruction."

The man seemed to stop and ponder over the words, he couldn't possibly have wanted Will to figure it out alone. When it came to things like this, he was completely stumped. No one had ever asked him to model, especially not for a painting. People didn't even ask him to pose for photos, truth be told the only reason he even agreed to this was because he thought the psychiatrist must've been fucking with him, why would anyone want to paint him?

He didn't consider himself the most attractive guy to look at, his face wasn't that interesting, his appearance in general was mostly unkept. But, if Hannibal was actually going to paint him, well, it was too late to back out now. Finally, the older man seemed to reach a conclusion in his mind, but, instead of simply instructing Will, he decided to pose him manually.

A warm hand resting under his jaw, turning his head to the side but lingering a second longer before trailing down his throat as he squatted in front of the other, those same hands sliding up his thighs. Will jerked at the contact, but the hands were unyielding. He melted into every touch and every movement, like a hungry dog being dangled a bone. 

"This is your first time doing this sort of thing, Will?"

Will knew Hannibal could guess as much, he was aware that the man just wanted to hear him say the words for his own satisfaction. He still gave him what he wanted.

"Yes, as it would turn out, I'm not exactly popular in the modeling department." 

Hannibal hummed, and though Will couldn't see his face, he knew there would be a smug glint in his hazel eyes. An indicator of this was how pleased his sounded when he said;

"That's quite the shame. But, it is lucky for me, I suppose."

The psychiatrist was nothing if not possessive, the profiler knew it, but like most things when it came to Hanniabl, he ignored it. He only raised an eyebrow at his statement but decided he wouldn't comment on it. That was when the man finally backed off Will, making his way back to his easel. 

"If at any point you need a break, I have no problem pausing."

Will just nodded and sat still, deciding he wouldn't physically be able to endure the other man posing him again. At first, the air felt tense to the profiler, mainly because the silence was making him anxious, the only sound being strokes made to the canvas and he clash of brushes hitting one another. If he listened too closely, he could hear Hannibal's concentrated breaths. But, the more time passed on, the more comfortable he felt, it was nice to even be in the presence of Hannibal, even if he'd never admit it.

Will really hadn't realized how long he'd been sitting there until light outside the windows turned to utter darkness. Still, he didn't want to say anything, especially when the other man seemed so focused. He waited for his hands to grow tired from the painting, which they eventually did. He'd put his brush in a cup and turned to Will;

"I think that's enough for today, Will. Thank you."

When he finally moved his head towards the man behind the easel, his neck and shoulders felt stiff, and his legs had fallen asleep. He hadn't been paying attention to anything around him until he felt a solid wall of warmth behind him, two hands resting on his shoulders. Fingers pressing into all the sore spots, massaging them away within minutes. Will couldn't help his sigh of pleasure, mindlessly leaning back into the touch.

"How has your sleep been, lately, Will? Still having nightmares?"

Will was so lost in the feeling of the incredible massage he was getting, he almost missed the question entirely. He hated when Hannibal brung in therapy questions during their normal time together, but he didn't feel like giving a snarky response.

"My sleep has been terrible, Dr. Lector. I'm lucky if I get four hours."

He avoided the nightmare question purposely, the silently acknowledged Will didn't feel like talking about the subject, and so they moved on.

"Is there any day I should come back? So you can finish the painting."

The hands paused, simply lingering. Will felt disappointed, but didn't outwardly whine. He'd given Hannibal a lot of satisfaction tonight, he didn't want him getting more greedy. Then, the warmth was gone and Hannibal was heading to the door, signalling Will should do the same. He forced his limps to function, stumbling only slightly to the door to retrieve his coat and shoes. Hannibal beat him to one of those things, holding the coat for Will while he slipped his arms into the sleeves. Slipping his shoes on and turning to look at the psychiatrist, who gave him a small grin.

"No need to come back, I'd say we've gotten far enough that I can finish it on my own. Have a good night, Will. Get some rest."

The man felt exhausted his whole way home. He was so out-of-body, by morning he didn't remember unlocking his door, didn't remember greeting his dogs, and didn't remember stumbling into bed and closing his eyes.

But, he did remember the feeling of Hannibal's hands. He had a feeling he wouldn't be forgetting it for a long time.


End file.
